Looks like I might be getting involved with Sudden Denouement as a contributor of sorts. Fucking unreal. I’ve been an admirer of theirs for years as the kind of wildly raw, authentically screwy and delightfully debased writing I hoped some day to embody. More to come soon….I’m floating on a sea of decapitated muffin tops, all glazed and sticky with the happy, seriously, clo-wd-nine-point-five. Thanks for the inspiration Olde Punk!
I’ve posted at various points about the women I had been in meaningful relationships with over the past several years. I’ve started the process of trying to own my mistakes and damaging choices that I made which wrongly hurt so many. I’m not expecting forgiveness nor looking for absolution – I simply want them to know that I see, finally, what I was doing, and that I am using that knowledge to change – but that I am truly sorry that I never gave validation to their suffering or trials as my partner.
The woman in the picture is my wife. We have been married for nearly a year now and during that period, for nearly 7-months of that I was in a schizoaffective psychosis that made it excruciating at points for us to interact. I left her for another woman, an ex, and then came crawling back as the hallucinations and delusions became too much. She welcomed back a broken and distorted man who was in the middle of, very literally, losing his mind.
At various points during what should have been our honeymoon period, I was convinced that she was in collusion with a massive entity that had designs on my life or was controlling and manipulating every facet of my existence. At others she was the embodiment of every other woman from my past, down to peculiar quirks, gestures and habits. She was going to be my executor and was part of the CIA, maybe she was part of a higher learning classroom where the objective was to transfer the emotional condition of each unknowing participant to their partner in order to engender sympathy and empathetic understanding of their challenges, she had been solicited by the local police force as part of an investigation into me and was the only reason I wasn’t in jail, we were unified spirits finally returning to each others company as we had been separated at birth, I was an android, we were both part of a “Matrix” style computer simulation, we were in a computer simulation again but this time it was part of a pre-death effort to recover functional control of the potential disability funds that I was too apply for – we were both on our way out and there was a timed limit to how long we could be sustained, she was god, she was my mother, she was my sister really, we were siblings, we were part of a government solicited experimental project that dated back into the early 1960s and was consistent with mind control practices used by the CIA and the conditioning had finally started to falter and a reset was needed in order for us to continue on, the experiment was over and the pain was from the conditioning being wiped, I was part of a TV show and was always considered an overindulgent jackass but the popularity had hit a decline and now the producers were reworking to see if they could salvage what had been a massive financial expenditure, there were patterns in all of the lights and colors that indicated specific events that would be forthcoming, the patterns were there to trigger latent programming in my mind to demand I act in certain ways……on and on and on.
Heather dealt with accusations, assertions, demands that were incredible unreasonable, threats, hostile looks, battered and desperate sobs, breakdowns, manipulations on her reality to try and line up with what seemed to be gaslighting, and capped with endless triggers to her own trauma that brought it back into full swing for her PTSD – she walked down the same road as I, holding my hand while my mind shattered and I became completely incapable of functioning in any sort of a way. I became wholly dependent on her emotionally and often physically as I would need direction to do the simplest of tasks.
I don’t know how she did it, I can’t imagine the entire extent of psychological and emotional damage she endured for that period – all while being judged and criticized by her family for standing by the side of a “schizophrenic drug addict” to such an extent all support and contact was removed.
She is truly incredible. Today, I am enrolled in college full time studying towards a law degree. We own a small RV that barely functions but acts as home. Support comes in from my family as we have actually rebuilt a degree of trust and love now that I am on a steady and clear path forward. They see the efforts that we have put in and the support we’ve given each other. When Heather broke down and checked into the local hospital, I was able to be there as a steady support and ensure that she was taken care of and all the outside concerns were handled so she could relax.
I was shattered at one point to the level that while sitting in the hospital with a deep wound from breaking a window in frustration that I didn’t know my name, my gender, my birthday, anything beyond that I was sitting in a hospital. She nurtured and helped grow me back into an actual function adult, and a partner that adores and supports (as best he can) her in turn – trying to reciprocate what she extended so freely despite the obstacles.
I love her to pieces, she astonishes me with her creativity, emotional connection to the larger whole, altruism, sympathy, caring and respectful behavior towards anyone and everyone – completely free of judgement. She is loyal beyond what could ever be expected of someone to endure and when she sets her mind to any task she has such a commitment as I can only dream of. For all her peculiar little quirks and certainly acknowledging that we all have faults, she is one of the most remarkable people I have ever met with a story that would bring any rational person to their knees in disbelief. She has been on quite the journey with me, and I am proud to finally be returning what she invested – surely to the disbelief of anyone who was in doubt of her decision if they were still paying any attention.
Most what I admire however is the truthfulness she embodies in every action and conversation throughout the day. Coupled with her open mindedness regarding life and non-judgemental mentality, we can speak openly about our challenges, desires, mistakes, fuck-ups, and everything in between. She has challenged me to have such a degree of integrity as she does, to walk the walk and own my actions, to grow by mimicry at first and then taking my own steps. She and I are building a life together, starting from nothing, but laying every component carefully so as to have the most solid of foundation–something neither of us has ever done.
We truly have been through one hell of a ride, but today we are able to laugh, enjoy some precious moments, and be secure in our connection to each other, knowing that nothing can, or will, break us apart.
Liquid snake is common compare,
The river beneath the milk puddled blue.
Joy soaks all the green that grows,
in hedges, lengthy strides and by rows.
Here I watch the ever present of growth
Here I see the catalyzing mystery,
of what comes next.
Along the banks of of proud water,
scales made from ripples,
a mirrored surface refracting radiance,
royal and haunted eye azure to dazzle.
A bewitching tone of cerulean
as you would see skull mounted
to the face of a person of purest pale.
Baby, wouldn’t you take the briefest of moments,
to pause, to break the doldrums of repetition.
To slither our bodies the distance across
and along that charmed prism of color.
We can be washed clean
of the need for forgiveness,
though we might beg abruptly,
for the sky to open,
and cleanse us in the love of yesteryears.
When trouble was nothing but childsplay,
whispered dreams were sought and chased.
found, pursued and realized.
We would go floating,
Bucolic and serene on tides of hope.
A note from Skye: at a juncture in our relationship where I had left the woman who is now my wife behind to go on a callously stupid and ill-fated journey elsewhere, she inscribed a note on the blackboard I have inside the roof of my truck (then my home). She wrote me, “Never forget, that home is where the heart is.” Despite going through terrible fights and challenges as I lost my mind following a tearful reunion and after our marriage which eventually led to my diagnosis of schizoaffective, she has remained a constant presence and holds my soul, mind, and thoughts to a more serene path than I have ever imagined to be possible. It isn’t easy for either of us sometimes, but in honor of the forthcoming holiday and a desire to put a smile on her face, the short poem below came about. The dog I had at the time which came to love her as well was named Luna – hence the image attached. Thank you for reading.
That beast with feel good flames,
It shatters personality with energizing fear,
Makes a whole of fractured creatures,
Absence felt but unseen shines light,
On the gnarled path to something true and right.
Rather than lost and alone we find our way here,
Out of the forest of broken hopes,
To a land fabricated of dreams and words,
Of possibilities and limitless features.
When we journey beyond the ken of all that’s known,
Risk it all on a gambled passion turned more,
We’ve started a walk down that most crooked road,
The one that leads home.
Find your love.
Heighten your aspirations,
Get ‘em up where they see the sun,
Float like something lighter than desperation,
Blood soaked to the tarnished beat of your life,
But succeeding despite.
Dude,
Just get the fuck up and move.
Do it,
Even the schoolwork,
Even the homework,
You’ve had the harder lessons,
The ones that left the scars,
Now put some time into the paper ones,
The ones that will lift you to the stars.
Frivolous waste of time you once said,
Now absorb and baptize in the act of learning,
Walk onto a campus,
Where you can be something and never look back.
White toothed grin wholesome and out of place, build me a river with curtains of tears from a different space.
Washed out playground full of mice and mace, deny me witheringly those indulgent ways.
Nevermore inside compulsive daze, shackle those bodies into wandering maze.
Labyrinth mode to occupy the days, if not for you then into the blaze.
Beguiled and lost in the haze of one life,
Still losing out on what could salvage that strife,
Put meaning and purpose behind all the pain,
Gather the crazy to shed light on the game,
For all the nights spent on streets,
Walking and stomping amuck.
Banging head against wall for the sound of a thud,
Claiming bad luck.
If I had to find solace in all of the facts,
Like the door once chopped down as a kid with an axe,
It would be to show vision of future not so bleak in design,
Make windowless posters and let bleed out my mind,
To a world created unsorrowful, joyous and free,
Pleasure found in success is where I’d seek to be.
I’d be pleasant and loving,
Caring and nurturing,
Devoted and faithful,
Consistent and capable.
Brilliantly damaged with an uncrafted mind,
Open to new thoughts,
Carefree instead of careless with my time.
I’d be playful and cheery,
Opulent in my charity,
Give all with sincerity,
Never expect in return,
I’d find that blistering heat of our sun to which I once yearned.
There’d be lessons with smiles,
Understanding and patience for miles.
I’d recognize your pain that I felt as a child,
Never more would I feel like I was trapped in a zoo.
The display would be dismantled,
Daily shit show would be cancelled,
Put the guardrails away,
Be approachable, jokable and laughing while at play.
I’d tell a story that said all the mistakes clear and loud,
Put nothing out there afloat on pink cloud.
Pride in voice to name myself a survivor,
Through chance and luck as much as MacGyver.
Explore the recesses of why I did what and how it had to have changed,
Look never for excuses, but reasons to grow, heal, and set aflame,
-a desire for beauty to cross ‘cross the world,
Melt away shame for my broken child be they me,
Boy or girl.
Stand owning my personal legend of existence,
Know that at the end of my days,
I made something more than a negative difference.
Hit me with the zap darling,
Break apart the cheek sockets,
Gimme a zing that chews joy,
Spits grit and evaporates misery,
I’d like one for the road,
Splintering that jaw bone,
Forcing the brightside parade of glee,
And even if,
I’ve got tongue sized words to disagree,
They don’t matter much,
When eyes twitch out of touch,
I’m lubricated,
Half insane,
Thank God for magic moments,
Watching sadness drift down a drain.
Putting pieces back together in a maze made of glass,
Seeing clear the future goals to move beyond the past.
These walls that edge without blotting out my vision,
They feel so tight yet loosely fit and lie about position.
I thought myself to be far in, so buried deep indeed,
Nearly neglected thought and action calls to change for want not need.
I’m coming to the realization that on so many different levels I am either a remarkably calloused and demanding individual or there is a screw truly loose (several more likely) upstairs. It’s the only thing that can, or would, account for such indiscriminate moments of self indulgent burbling and behaviour as leads me to regularly overlook the concerns of those loving figures in my life. Unless I am well and truly an actual certifiable dick.
I’m even finding a flair for it in the fact that I tend to fixate on my own reactions and actions in situations – pre-emptively justifying some flagrant display of asinine “my way or the highway” choice making prowess with a fixated smile plastered in disregard on my face (which I will only later realize to my own chagrin). If I were to explore the world around me, step outside of this little glass room and observe that what I previously represented as fun was actually a brazen push off of my wife’s emotions and verbalized needs (supplanted by my own), irresponsible actions that drained coffers and put us at risk, and a worthless extension of a wonderful day into the doldrums and mire of a night huddled at opposite sides of the van.
Somewhere along the lines there is a lynchpin moment – like when I say, “wow, we are getting along great recently!” Klaxons should go off inside my head that any moment now my own self-destruct sequence just silently clicked on and started down. If I can chase back that singular moment as it happens and repetitiously drill it into my head that this is the moment where a choice can mean the validation of goodwill and genuine happiness being experienced and a continuation thereof, or disaster and a repeat of the same overplayed mistakes once again.
It seems intuitive that anyone would want to sustain positivity and goodvibes that are making themselves felt in an interpersonal dynamic – so why does my brain blank to suddenly and with seeming intent when it comes to taking the basic neccessary steps to do so? I don’t like the burned out husk of joy that is left when I don’t, no one does. If I have to be self serving enough to recognize the discomfort that the miss of that moment will bring to myself in order to identify the external impact that will precede, so be it.
I really hope I’m not just a dick. That would really be terrible.
To Ink - a blog from Melting Neurons 